Fear and Remembrance
by Elizabeth Arian
Summary: War is upon us and Holmes must leave to serve his country...Rating increased slightly for more Adult themes. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1 War is Upon Us

_Two stories going on at the same time! Wow how ambitious am I? hehe Anyway, this is the long promised sequel to 'A Mild Annoyance' by far my best work – I humbly think : ) It's a fic about war, it will be full of heartache and misery, as well as hope and love and it may be quite a long one so I apologise in advance about the length between updates – I write only for your pleasure : ) Please read and review…_

**Fear and Remembrance.**

**Chapter One. War is upon us. **

War hung like a dark cloud over the great city, I was not often in the city but on the odd occasion when I was I noticed the change in her. She was no longer the gay girl of old, she had become dark and beaten, her inhabitants wandering through their lives with faces as dull and as unfeeling as stone. It was the same for us all, that feeling of lack of hope, a feeling of fear and uncertainty pervaded everything and seeped into everyone. I hated it, that is the reason I did not linger that day in London. I had come up to the capital merely to run a few errands and to see a few housebound patients whose happiness relied on my turning up to remind them of a world that was fast disappearing. I passed women on their way to work and I remembered how they used to look, beautiful and carefree, now they looked tired and old. I averted my eyes and hurried to the house of my first patient. Soldiers passed me as I waited at the front door, children, barely sixteen years old running off to a war they knew nothing about. I had seen war, and nothing could convince me that it was at all glorious; I shook my head in sadness at the waste of their young lives. A young girl with forlorn eyes opened the door and smiled sheepishly, it was Elsie, I knew Elsie, she was a shy, timid thing who had been in the old woman's service practically since she had been born.

"Good morning Elsie," I attempted a breezy tone of voice, but I admit it was becoming more and more difficult.

"Good morning doctor, please come in." Her voice was quiet and she barely lifted her head when she spoke to me. I entered the house, grateful of the warmth. Elsie took my coat and led me to the drawing room; the old lady lay quietly on the sofa. She was not my favourite patient but she had a good heart and I was content to do whatever I could.

"Good morning Mrs. Pearson, how are you?" I spoke more jovially than I felt.

"Better than you Doctor Watson I shouldn't wonder." She answered rather harshly, I smiled, she never was an easy one to fool.

"It's the damn war is all, makes everything a little subdued."

She simply murmured something which I didn't quite catch.

"On important business are you?" She asked her voice full of the strains of age.

"Visiting you is important business Mrs. Pearson."

"Flatterer." She smiled at me and I returned it. I gazed around the room, it was pleasant enough, but dated. All the things she possessed were no longer wanted by the young – or in fact needed by them. A piano stood, long untouched in one corner, a bird cage hung in one corner, empty of life. The room itself smelt of a time long gone, I smiled at the memory.

"No Mr. Holmes?" She asked, her voice rather hopeful. I had brought Holmes with me once and the two of them had struck up quite a conversation, but the war kept him busy and he had not visited since.

"No, I'm afraid not. I rarely see him these days." I knew he was in town visiting his brother but he had not contacted me, so I had not contacted him.

"Interesting man," She continued quietly, "We shall see much more of him before this war is done with."

I nodded in agreement, somewhat shocked at her change in tone. I stayed with Mrs. Pearson for a further hour before I eventually took my leave. I bade Elsie goodbye, who blushed rather prettily at my attentions. It was nice to be noticed by a woman again, I loved Elaine but it was still gratifying. I headed toward Baker Street more for old time's sake than any need. I knocked at the well-remembered door and Mrs. Hudson herself answered it. She was not yet old, barely older than myself, but she too looked tired. She was, I think, glad to see me and ushered me inside.

"Why doctor however did you know?" She asked once I was safely inside.

"Know what Mrs. Hudson?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"Mr. Holmes Sir, he's upstairs." She practically beamed as she said the words. I must confess I was dumbfounded, Holmes had not lived in London for nearly fifteen years, what on earth was he doing in Baker Street?

"May I go up and see him?" I asked, rather foolishly.

"Of course, doctor. I've no need to announce you have I?" I smiled awkwardly at her and began to ascend the old stairs. Every feeling I had ever felt when climbing these steps in the past rushed back to me and I felt young again, thrilled to be alive and awaiting with an eager anticipation whatever Holmes would put before me. I hesitated outside the door and knocked, feeling for the first time in my life like I had no right there. A voice answered my knock and I entered. The room was much changed. There were no papers, no Persian slipper, and no violin. Nothing save a few chairs and a lone table in the centre of a newly painted room. Sitting on one of the chairs by a newly stoked fire was my old friend, who glanced up as I entered. I think he was shocked for never have I seen a smile so genuine escape his lips in all the time I knew him.

"Why Watson!" he exclaimed rising to his feet and extending his hand, I took it warmly, "Yours is I face I did not expect to see. How did you know I was here and what are doing in London."

He released my hand and waved me to a chair; I took it and smiled at him.

"Pure chance, old fellow. I was visiting a few patients and thought I would stop by to see Mrs. Hudson and she told me you were here. I confess I am more shocked to find you, I thought you busy with state business."

"And so I am Watson. I've convinced Mrs. Hudson to let me have my old rooms for as long as I should need them, its no use using hotels when I'm in London as often as I am just now."

"Are you much involved in the war Holmes?" I asked, intrigued.

"Depends on what you consider involved Watson. I help in whatever why I can, times are desperate after all."

"They are indeed." I sighed and gazed into the fire, the weight of what the country was facing interrupting my thoughts. Holmes noticed my silence,

"Everything alright Watson?" Holmes asked, with something resembling concern in his voice.

"I'm just remembering simpler time Holmes."

"Yes, life has changed since our days together hasn't it?" He smiled thinly at me, his eyes taking on the colours of the fire, "Which reminds me, how is Mrs. Watson, the lovely Elaine." His eyes went back to the paper in his hand but he retained his smile.

"Very well thank you, how did my reminiscing remind you of my wife?" I asked, as always puzzled, when around Holmes.

"She is the link to one of our last cases together." His eyes didn't meet mine.

"Ah yes, the adventure of the silver trinket." I said with a smile. Holmes laughed,

"Hardly a suitable title for the case that brought the realisation of war with it."

"No, I suppose not." My smile had disappeared. Holmes cleared his throat.

"Watson, I may have to go away for a while and I don't know how long I will be gone. I would feel very much honoured if you would have dinner with me tonight, you alone, I do not wish to offend your wife but I would like just your company if you would oblige me." Holmes averted his eyes from me, obviously embarrassed by his request.

"Of course Holmes, anytime and anywhere you wish." My voice remained quiet.

"Wonderful, it will indeed be like old times." His smile warmed me, and struck fear into me. If he was going it was for the war and I couldn't bear the thought of losing him again in my lifetime. I pushed this thought to the back of my mind.

"Come then, we will leave our sadly diminished rooms to Mrs. Hudson's tender care." He spread out his arm to me and led me into the street, we walked together into the cold night and I felt it more keenly than I had ever done before and it was not my age, I had the strongest feeling that this would be the last time me and Holmes would be together for a long, long time.


	2. Chapter 2 The Fading of Hope

_Just a quick note to say thank you for all my reviews, they are very much appreciated and even if I'm only reaching a few, I'm glad it's a lovely few : ) All suggestions welcome, so if you think its rubbish tell me…oh, and keep reading…_

**Chapter Two. The Fading of Hope. **

My eyes became increasingly heavy as the night wore on. The fire at my feet was comforting but I was too weary to enjoy it. The war soldiered on and London became increasingly empty. The once vibrant streets were now quiet and haunting. Holmes had gone, to where I did not know. I saw him only once more after our dinner together, and only for a brief moment. He was boarding a train at Victoria and I noticed him by accident. His eyes met mine as he boarded and he smiled, then disappeared into the smoke. I have no idea where he was bound and I have not seen nor heard any word of him since. I have not been back to Baker Street; I pass its door every now and again but never venture inside. My work for the army keeps me occupied, Elaine also volunteered as a nurse, which I was originally against, but she has such a caring nature that it was almost impossible for her not to help in whatever way she could. And so our lives continue. The absence of Holmes is keenly felt by not just me, but by London. People tend to recognise me every now and again and ask me his whereabouts, I have to confess I do not enjoy these encounters with my admirers but it is gratifying to know that I am in some way at least, responsible for the fame Holmes now enjoys. The fire was dying and the light it was giving was as dim and as spent as my heart. I sighed as I stood, intending to retire to bed when I heard a faint knocking at my door. I rubbed my tired eyes, knowing there was some dire emergency I was required at; I reflected that my entire life seemed to have been one dire emergency after another and that it was all Holmes' fault. I smiled; I would not have had it any other way. I went cautiously to the door, it was still London after all and one did not just open the door to anyone. I unlocked it and pulled it open slightly to see a young girl; about seventeen stood the other side, gazing sadly at me. Her eyes were wet with tears and her hands red with the biting December cold. I opened the door immediately and smiled at the poor creature.

"Can I help you my dear?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice as still and as quiet as possible.

"Are you Doctor Watson?" She asked, her voice hoarse and strained, she was evidently not well.

"Yes, come inside where it's warm." I ushered her in and she let me remove her coat and hat and practically place her in front of the now rekindled fire in my front room. I smiled again, when the fire was properly going again.

"Now, you know who I am, may I ask who you are?"

"Alice, Alice Kendall."

The name suited her, it was pretty and demure. She was not typically beautiful but she had a grace and dignity beyond her years that made her quite stunning to behold.

"Very good to meet you Miss. Kendall, what can I do for you at such an hour?"

"You know Mr. Holmes?"

The question took me somewhat by surprise, I was frequently being asked that question but not by young girls in the middle of the night.

"Yes," I answered slowly, unsure of where her question was going to lead.

"So do I." She placed her hand in her lap and looked down intently at them, the tears that had dried up beginning to form again in her eyes.

"Miss. Kendall is your visit about Holmes?"

At this question the poor girl burst into floods of tears, I rose to fetch her a handkerchief and a brandy to calm her nerves, both she accepted gratefully.

"I'm sorry, it's just… it's so dreadful and I don't know what to do, you were the only person I really thought I could trust and times being such as they are…" She relapsed again into a fit of sobs, I sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, she leaned into me, grateful to have someone at last she could cry in front of.

"It's alright dear, tell me what you know and I will listen to all." She sat up again and gazed at me with beautiful blue eyes.

"You won't believe me."

I laughed gently,

"You would be surprised by what I have come to believe, now tell me."

I placed a hand over her trembling one and she took a deep breath in.

"One thing you must first know, so that you believe everything I am doing and everything I have done, I have done only for Mr. Holmes. Do you believe that?"

I nodded slowly, the smile gone from my face and fear gripping my heart, what had happened to Holmes that caused him to rely on this slip of a girl to relay messages. Her eyes never left mine as she spoke,

"I love him, I have loved him my entire life and I love him now."

The words were simple enough and had been spoken many times before, but never to my knowledge, about Holmes. I stood up.

"My girl, this is a pretty silly joke, if you are simply another ardent admirer after my attention then congratulations it worked, and a very convincing show you put on too but enough is enough…"

I was about to continue my admonishment of the girl when she rose and placed two very strong hands on my shoulders.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me!" She almost screamed, fresh tears running down her face, "I do love him and I do know him, you must believe me, you must!"

"How can I believe you? I have known Holmes for nearly 25 years and never in my acquaintance has any woman ever claimed to love him."

"If they had only seen what he has done for this country, to help us get out of this terrible war! How he has saved millions of lives, then every woman who is worth anything would fall at his feet begging him to love her!"

I thought the girl was mad, delirious and feverish from all she had endured, whatever that may be. I decided that to agree with her may be the best course of action, I would take care of her and attend to her health, Holmes would come later.

"Alright, alright," I soothed, removing her hands and holding them in my own, "I believe you know Holmes and I believe that you think you love him."

She was about to protest again when I placed a finger over her lips.

"I will listen to all you have to say in the morning, my wife is away tonight working, so you may stay here, in the morning you can tell me all you know of Holmes and all you have been through and I promise you I will do whatever I can to help you."

I felt the girl relax under my fingers, she attempted a smile.

"Thank you Doctor."

I smiled and called a maid to lead her up to my room, and to prepare the spare room for myself. As she turned to go, she looked at me and said,

"He was right; you are the most courageous man in London."

I watched her walk away and smiled at her imaginings, I knew many things about Holmes and I knew that he would never send a child to do his work and he would never call me courageous…


	3. Chapter 3 A Request

_Sorry for the long gaps between updates, my life is becoming increasingly busy! Hopefully I will be able to keep the time between updates relatively short – sorry! Keep reading and reviewing if you enjoy – or indeed if you don't! _

**Chapter Three. A Request.**

I let the girl sleep, feeling she would be better for it; even though I was anxious to hear any news of Holmes. As reliable as any news from a raving girl could be; I slept fitfully, fearing whatever the girl would tell me, haunted by my own imaginings. By the time dawn had broken I had decided it was useless to lie in bed without sleep, so I rose. I crept as quietly as possible into the bedroom where the girl was sleeping, to my surprise she was not asleep but sitting calmly on the edge of the bed staring into the growing sunlight. To my tired eyes she looked quite ethereal, almost ghostly; her pale skin translucent in the glowing light. As she heard me approach she turned her tearstained face towards me. I sat next to her on the bed and placed my hand over her cold one, she shivered.

"He did not think it would be this terrible." Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"Who did not?" I struggled to contain the emotion in my voice, every nerve in my body wanting to shake the girl out of her stupor.

"Mr Holmes, I saw him crying once. He did not see me. I hid, it is always better to hide around him in the dark.

Her words confused me, the idea of Holmes crying was as impossible as his association with this nymph of a girl.

"Did he send you here?"

"He sent me to fetch you. He told me he needs you."

"Why did he send you? And from where?"

I was aware my questions were becoming more urgent but I did not care. I believed that Holmes needed me but I had not the patience to deal with the girl's cryptic comments.

"Because I can get places others can't. He is a far away place."

"Where? Tell me."

"He speaks their language. He says he has relatives there, they know him, they are important." Her condition was beginning to worry me. Her eyes were barely moving and her pupils were dilated, I placed a hand across her forehead, she felt warm and clammy. My head was spinning with a thousand thoughts, not one that I could give my full attention to. The only place in the world I could think of where all she had said would make sense would be France. Where in France I did not know and it was obvious that no more information was to be gained from the girl. I sighed, she turned to face me, removing her hand from mine she pulled something from the pocket of her dress and handed it to me. It was a yellow and crumpled piece of paper; I unfolded it and nearly died of shock. It was a note, written in Holmes' hand;

_My Dear Watson,_

_If this has reached you in one piece, then I may start to believe in the existence of a God. I need you to come to Paris as soon as you are able. I am in deep waters my friend and I need a man whom I can trust. Naturally my thoughts turned to you. Bring the girl with you, she is valuable and has been through much. Perhaps she would be safer in London but I cannot risk it. I am relying on you Watson, I do not believe you would fail me. Be safe my friend,_

_S. H_

I gazed at the letter in my hands as intensely as the girl was gazing at me. I felt relief and fear. Holmes was alive, but in need. I felt sick and confused. I stood and walked over to the window, allowing the morning sunlight to warm my suddenly cold skin. I could feel her eyes and I turned.

"Will you come?" Tears had begun to fill her eyes and I could sense her hysteria returning. I walked over to her and took both her hands.

"Yes, I'll come." Relief seemed to wash over her and a smile broke upon her angelic features, I returned it, "Now you must sleep."

She nodded and sighed, lying back on the bed; within a minute she was asleep. If she was feeling a shred of what I was then she would have found sleep impossible. Asleep she looked almost peaceful. I wondered what she had been through, what she had been before this war had begun, some carefree beauty with the life ahead of her full of promise and happiness. Now she was in shock and damaged, another young life lost to the onslaught of war. Yes, I could believe Holmes would cry at this.

I left her sleeping and went down to the kitchen, it was the maid's day off and all was silent. I put the kettle on the stove for some tea; I was in need of something calming. I needed to think about what to do next. I took the tea back to the drawing room and rekindled the fire; I had just sat down and raised the cup to my lips when I heard the front door. My wife entered flushed and breathless looking the very picture of health and normality. She smiled as she saw me, then just as quickly her smile disappeared.

"John! What on earth's the matter? You look terrible!" She rushed over and knelt in front of me.

"I'm fine, just tired, I got very little sleep last night I'm afraid." I attempted a smile but the effort was too much.

"What has happened? Is it Mr. Holmes?" Her voice grew quiet and worried; Elaine had always held a soft spot for Holmes.

"In a way, he has sent for me."

"Sent for you? I don't understand."

"I'm afraid nor do I. he has sent a girl of all things to summon me to Paris. He says I must leave as soon as possible."

Elaine remained at my feet, calm and composed, her eyes never leaving the floor.

"What girl?"

"She is nothing but a child, and I fear, gradually losing her mind. She is upstairs asleep. He insists on my bringing her with me."

"Oh John, the poor child. Do you think he's very involved in the war?"

"Quite possibly, he's always involved in something." I smiled and Elaine smiled back.

"Yes, well for once I'm glad of it, I feel better knowing Mr. Holmes is on our side, even if the methods he employs are somewhat strange."

"As am I my dear."

"Will you go?" She brought her eyes to my face and I could not bear to look into them.

"I fear I have to. I will not go if you do not wish it."

"How could I wish it? Whatever Mr. Holmes is involved in, it is most certainly not safe. But, I appreciate your friendship," After a pause she added, "Go John, be with him. I'm sure that Mr. Holmes, like all of us needs some one with him at such a time as this."

I took her face in my hand and I kissed her, I could feel her tears. I held her to me for a long time before I left to check on the girl. She was still sleeping. I had decided to go and see Mycroft before I made any arrangements to leave; it was a visit I fear I will never forget.


	4. Chapter 4 A Visit

_A short chapter just to keep you updated, I recently took on another job so my writing is becoming a luxury as my life gets busier! I've taken a few liberties with the Holmes' that I hope you'll all accept with an open mind. I appreciate reviews so please send me one, good or bad I don't mind! Thanks for reading : ) Music97 x_

**Chapter Four. A Visit.**

I waited in the forbidding foyer of the Diogenes club, wishing I was anywhere else. The silence was intimidating in itself, with its harsh oppressiveness forbidding even breath to escape my tense body. I looked around me, the dark walls of the place making it even more terrifying; exuding an authority I could not understand and had no part in. I waited anxiously and resisted the urge to tap my foot in my haste. Finally I could see Mycroft's huge form fill what little sunlight there was coming from the stairway. He did not smile when he saw me but outstretched his hand in formal cordiality.

"Doctor, How are you? It has been a long time." His voice was as deep and as slow as his brothers was high and rapid. They were complete opposites, Mycroft exuded a gentleness that Sherlock rarely displayed, there was age in Mycroft's eyes, youth in Sherlock's and mischief opposed with a lifetime of struggle and doubt which were just on the edge of Mycroft's. I shook his hand in solemnity.

"It has been, other things take precedence these days I'm afraid."

"Yes, Mycroft said slowly, leading me into a room where the disapproving eyes of other members would not constantly be following us around. I sat in the chair he offered but declined the drink, fearing my nerves were in too fragile a state.

"You have heard from my brother I take it, that is why you are here?" He didn't turn to face me but remained by the fireplace.

"Yes, he sent a girl, with a letter requesting me to go to France; I thought it would be best to talk to you about it first." I was aware how childish it sounded but Mycroft remained motionless, he turned slowly.

"You are wiser than you look doctor." He smiled briefly and suddenly reminded me of his brother and a pang of loneliness shot through me, I missed him, and I missed his quips. I longed to be in Paris to find him and unravel this mess.

"Sherlock is involved with our government and the French government, he is working on a case, not your typical crime I grant you, but a crime in war is somewhat more serious than a crime in peace." I nodded, confusion growing every minute. "I assume he has contacted you because he needs an extra pair of hands, which is understandable. The girl however is a mystery, I was aware of no girl. How old is she?" Mycroft's face had taken on an air of worry.

"About seventeen." Mycroft tensed and put down his glass; he came over to me and sat down.

"Be very careful how you answer this next question doctor; make sure you are sure of what you are saying. What is her name?" His voice has become strained, I could not think what had brought about this change, but I answered the truth.

"Alice, Alice Kendall. She is rather ill I'm afraid, she has some sort of brain fever which causes her to…" I stopped as I realised Mycroft was no longer listening to me. He had gotten up and walked to the window his hand across his mouth. I sat in silence and waited. Mycroft mumbled something to himself which I could not hear. Still I waited until again he turned to face me.

"You must go to Paris as soon as possible. Take Alice with you."

"Who is this girl, it is evident that you know something of why Holmes sent her, he seems to hold her in some esteem as she insists on accompanying me and Holmes also has made that request, she is an ill girl of seventeen, why on earth would two of the greatest men in England be so concerned about her!" My voice had risen to a pitch that was beyond acceptable but I could not restrain myself, I was annoyed at having been taken for granted, ignored and bullied. I wanted some answers. I waited as Mycroft looked at me, shocked that I had violated the silence of his precious club. He almost whispered the answer back at me, in the calmest voice I had ever heard,

"Because she is my brother's daughter."

I nearly fainted in shock,

"Sherlock's daughter."

Mycroft looked at me with something resembling humour dancing around his eyes,

"No, not Sherlock, Sherrinford, our youngest brother, he died seventeen years ago, not long after Alice was born and her mother died in childbirth. Sherrinford never really accepted the child and pined after his wife. It is, I believe what killed him in the end. Myself and Sherlock were at a loss what to do, shocked by our brother's hasty marriage, quickly followed by the birth of his daughter and his death, we were forced to give the child up for adoption." I must have gasped for Mycroft shot me a sharp look, "It is not a decision we are proud of doctor and certainly not our finest moment but the Holmes family, such as it is, or was; is unaccustomed to such things and the proper form of behaviour in such circumstances. It was unthinkable that either Sherlock or myself would take the girl on so we did what we thought was best. A decision we came to regret, instead of being adopted by a good, decent family, Alice was adopted by the Kendells, gypsies who forced her into work; we traced her across Europe as best we could but the Kendells were clever and hardened criminals, used to outrunning the law. Then the war came and we had to accept that our niece was forever lost to us – until now."

My head was in a whirl, Alice, Holmes niece? The thought was inconceivable, and a brother I had never heard of? Why had Holmes never mentioned him or Alice? I was becoming angry, I wanted to hurt Homes the way he was hurting me now, I thought about all the betrayals, this was just one more I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was, I was hurt and I wanted to get away to take Alice and escape to Paris, demand of Holmes what he always demanded of me, truth, loyalty and support. He constantly demanded my attention, pulling me away from my wife, my home and all he did in return was keep secrets from me and lie to me. I stood,

"I shall leave for Paris on the next available boat and I will take Alice with me. Goodbye Mycroft." I span on my heel and noisily left the club, I could feel Mycroft's eyes watching me, he knew he was powerless and I could feel his pain. I did not care, the war had begun to harden me and I had had enough of the Holmes' lies. I headed for home and as quickly as was possible packed, prepared and set off with a bewildered Alice in tow, for the continent, Paris, Holmes and the truth.


	5. Chapter 5 Paris

_Quite a long time chapter because I was bored at work! Enjoy…Music97 x_

**Chapter five. Paris**

The crossing was uneventful; Alice slept much of the way. I spent the majority of my time gazing out on to the ocean. I felt peculiarly melancholy all the way; as if my world was slowly slipping away and all I could do was watch. I thought of Holmes with a mixture of fear and loathing. I wanted to see him, but I was not sure if when I saw him I would embrace him or hit him. The sea air helped clear my thoughts somewhat by the time we arrived in France. The journey to Paris was calmer than I thought, Alice stared vacantly out of the window, I was a little worried about her as she had not said two words since we had left England. I stared at her with a new sense of interest, she was Holmes' niece. This frail, other-worldly creature was a Holmes. It was difficult to believe, I did not doubt Mycroft's word – I knew better than that, but still. I did not know what she had gone through and why Holmes had sent her, maybe he wanted me to know the truth but it was still a callous way to treat his niece. My anger began to grow as we neared Paris, I could feel Holmes' presence and I longed to lay eyes on him. I checked us into the hotel Mycroft had provided for the duration of our stay. Alice looked around her with an air of boredom, as if all this grandeur was simply a day to day occurrence. It may have been for all I know, who knows what she had been, Mycroft had said she had been ill brought up, but her bearing and the way she held herself all spoke of a well-brought up lady. My mind swam with thoughts of her past, her lineage. Our rooms were conjoining, an idea which seemed to comfort Alice as she kept opening the joining door as if to check I was still there. I smiled as warmly as I could, but I was anxious for a note from Holmes. It finally arrived four hours after our arrival in Paris. I almost snatched the note from the boy's hand, then rather unceremoniously flung some francs at him. Alice heard the commotion and hung on the joining door, looking sheepishly at me. I sighed and flung the note to the floor, it said to keep Alice with me and Holmes would join us as soon as he was able. I motioned to Alice to come in; she shuffled towards me, dragging her left leg. I looked curiously at her; I had never noticed her do that before. She sat on the edge of my bed, never taking her eyes from me.

"May I look at your leg Alice?" I knelt in front of her and took her foot in my hand, her watery eyes following my fingers as I traced them up her leg. It was badly swollen and scarred. The scars were not new, but her leg had evidently been broken at some point and had not healed correctly. I frowned, Alice mimicked me.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked, and quickly removed my hand, causing her leg to fall sharply; she winced as it hit the ground.

"Lift you leg up for me Alice." I watched as she tried and failed to lift her leg higher than an inch. Before I had time to do much more, the door swung open, revealing Holmes. He smiled as he saw me kneeling in front of Alice.

"Has my niece captured your heart Watson?"

I stood, feeling my face flush. Holmes bent to kiss Alice on the head, her face radiated with joy when she saw him. He sat next to her and took her hands,

"And how are you?" His voice was gentle and reassuring; the smile never left his face. I had seen Holmes be more than chivalrous with women, but this was different. Then he had been detached, using his charm to disarm and cajole without any real feeling. Now there was genuine affection in his eyes and he seemed to really be concerned with Alice and what she would say. Alice in turn, seemed equally transfixed by her uncle. Behind her vacant eyes one could almost make out the girl that used to be, intelligent and beautiful, then just as quickly it was gone, replaced by the girl in pain and without hope. She nodded at Holmes who moved a stray hair from her face with almost fatherly tenderness. He then turned to look at me, the smile gradually slipping away from his features. He let Alice's hands drop and stood. I felt useless; he walked over to me and took my hand.

"Thank you Watson, for taking care of her. I knew you would." He smiled and I smiled back, I could not let go of his hand for fear that if I did he would again be gone and all the confusion I felt when he wasn't with me would return.

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" I kept my voice quiet, aware Alice was looking at me. Holmes' face remained impassive as he released my hand, he turned to Alice.

"I want you to go to bed, while the doctor and I go out for a while," Alice's face took on a pained expression, Holmes held her face in his hands, "We won't be gone for long."

He raised her and walked her over to the edge of the bed, where he removed the bed clothes and then seated her again; he knelt in front of her and removed her shoes, with a tenderness I had always thought him impossible of. She let him push her onto the bed and cover her over, she looked up longingly at him, he stroked her hair and then bent over and lightly brushed his lips across her cheek. She smiled and closed her eyes. Holmes watched her for a moment then motioned to me to follow him. I picked up my coat and hat and followed; he closed the door gently behind us and locked it.

We walked out into the cool Parisian night, Paris never ceased to amaze me, I had been a few times before, once with Holmes before the war, and it always struck me as being a city that smiled. Never did I feel stifled or trapped as I often did in London. The air soothed me, Holmes led me to a nearby café and sat at a table outside, he ordered two coffees from the waiter in perfect French, before he looked at me.

"You have seen Mycroft then?" I nodded.

"How did you expect me to find you if I had not gone to see him, you must have been sure that I would, else how would I have discovered Alice's identity. You didn't have to lie to me Holmes." I felt tense and angry; I could give no rational reason for it other than utter exhaustion. Everything Holmes did angered me.

"I did not lie."

"In your note you called her 'the girl' and gave her surname as Kendall, not Holmes."

"And so her surname is Kendall, it was given to her by the people who adopted her."

"She does not know who her father is then?"

"She knows, but we thought it would be less confusing for her to keep her adopted name. Alice is not what Sherrinford called her either, but I could not change the girl's name as well as the story of her birth in too short a space."

"What is her name?"

"Mary, as fate would have it, she was christened Mary Elizabeth Holmes."

"Why did you send her to me?"

Holmes ran his long fingers over the rim of his coffee cup before looking up at me,

"She was more than capable of finding you, she is a Holmes underneath all that frailty, and she was less likely to arouse suspicion." Holmes paused and took a breath, I waited, "And I needed Mycroft to accept her existence."

"Mycroft?"

"Yes, you are right, I knew you would go to him and I knew you would mention Alice. When I told Mycroft I had found her in a house of ill repute in Paris he refused to believe me, preferring her instead to be dead rather than destitute. I needed him to accept her; if I sent her to you and she survived it would prove it."

Suddenly the warm Paris air had grown cold, and the city stopped smiling. I sipped my coffee, not looking at him.

"If she survived?" My voice was almost a whisper, "Holmes, you were prepared to risk the life of the girl you knew to be your niece because you wanted to prove yourself to your brother?!"

"You make it sound so sordid Watson; you forget I had known the girl for a good many months. I knew she was capable, so I sent her."

"But her condition?"

"She has no condition Watson, she is merely in shock. She will be fine, with both of us to guide her." He looked at me over his coffee cup, desperation framing his dark eyes. I sighed.

"You know I would never abandon you – or her."

Holmes let out a smile and replaced his cup.

"Thank you Watson."

"What are we to do now?" I asked, still not clear on why Holmes had wanted me in Paris.

"I'm afraid Watson I must beg another favour of you. I still have much work to do for the foreign office and Alice must not yet be left on her own, she is still fragile. Take care of her, she relies on me and I see she trusts you."

"Very well, if that is all you wish me to do I will do it."

Holmes slapped his hand on the table causing the cups to jump,

"Good old Watson," He smiled, then he saw my face, "In all seriousness Watson, I know I take you for granted but I do not know what I would do without you. Thank you my friend."

I relaxed for the first time in I couldn't say how many months and smiled.

"You are very welcome. I have to say I do not know what my life would be like without you, I have had a taste of it these past few months and I have to say I have never been so bored with the mundanely stroll that life takes, so thank you Holmes."

His eyes took on the far away quality that was peculiar to his niece, and he cleared his throat.

"Come Watson, we will take a stroll before we return to our charge."

As we stood to leave, a boy of about sixteen ran into the back of Holmes. Holmes grabbed his neck and spun him around. Holmes admonished him in French to which the boy hurried a reply. Holmes' face took on a sour look as he released the boy and once more spoke to him in French, the boy avoided Holmes' gaze, again Holmes pushed whatever it was he was asking and again the boy remained silent. Eventually Holmes gave up and released the child, who scurried off into the crowd. Holmes watched him go until he was out of sight.

"What was that about?" I asked, following Holmes' gaze.

"Nothing Watson, nothing important anyway."

Holmes span on his heel and walked away, his head down. There was nothing for me to do but follow; I tore my eyes away from the crowd behind us and followed Holmes into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6 Family Ties

**Chapter Six. Family ties **

After a brief walk around Paris we returned to our hotel to find Alice sound asleep, Holmes smiled down at her, and stroked her face. I marvelled at him, the Holmes I had known before the war would never had acted like this, even to his own niece. Still, the war had mellowed us all somewhat. We retired to the adjoining room, the one that Alice had previously occupied. Her clothes were strewn on the floor, and her hair things cast aside on the dressing table. I smiled at Holmes, who was sitting on the windowsill, smoking, the smoke swirling out into the cold night air.

"She takes after you for her habits." I sat on the chair opposite him, Holmes glanced at me through the smoke.

"Yes, none of us Holmes' are very tidy creatures. What am I to do Watson?" I sat, breathless, stunned by the question. Holmes had always known what to do, I relied on him to know what to do. His voice did not sound helpless or desperate, just curious.

"Do about what Holmes? Alice?"

"Yes, she's a problem, she is, as you have observed, not what she was. I cannot risk anything happening to her, not now after so long."

"No, I understand that. What is she doing in Paris? How on earth did you find her?"

"I have been tracking her for a while."

"Mycroft told me you had lost all trace of her after the war began."

"Mycroft thought we had, I honestly believe he would rather we had." Holmes' voice remained calm and his eyes were fixed on the street below, as if watching for someone, I could see nothing. He sighed and continued,

"I knew the family that had adopted her had relocated to Paris, it was mere coincidence that the Prime Minister asked me to look into some issues for the foreign office in Paris, it suited my plans very well for I had always intended to follow the Kendalls. I arrived here not long after the family and I followed them to Paris. They were a shocking family Watson, I found her in a brothel in the worst part of the city. The family was not best pleased with my taking her but the right amount soon persuaded them otherwise." I almost thought I saw Holmes shudder, he flicked his cigarette out into the dark and shut the window, moving to the couch by the fire, I turned to face him.

"I'm sorry Holmes." I did not know what else to say, his eyes were blazing with some emotion I could not recognise but I knew for certain it was a look I would not like to be on the receiving end of. Holmes ignored my sympathies and stared into the fire.

"You have nothing to be sorry for old chap. It is me that must answer for my sins." His voice descended almost to a whisper and he ran a hand over his tired face. Before he could say anything else, the door opened and a dishevelled looking Alice appeared, bleary eyed and blinking at the sudden light. Holmes immediately stood and went over to her, he took her hands.

"What are you doing out of bed?" His voice was calm and soothing, Alice's face relaxed into a smile, I doubt she even knew I was there. Slowly she released herself from Holmes' grasp and walked over to the fire, she knelt down and stared intensely into it. Holmes and I watched her, Holmes with concern on his face, myself, curiosity. Slowly she extended her hand into the fire, Holmes ran to her and pulled it back.

"Alice no! You mustn't do that, don't you understand?!" Alice looked fearfully at him, shrinking beneath his harsh words. I ran over to them and took Alice from Holmes, who remained kneeling on the floor.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you doctor. I don't know what came over me."

I took a step back, I was expecting no words, but the sound came out controlled and intelligent. The raving girl I had first met had disappeared. I smiled,

"Good, are you hungry at all?"

"Yes, a little." She looked at her hand, it was a little red from the heat but she was unharmed.

"I shall call for some supper for you, go back into my room and eat it in there," I guided her to the door, she glanced back at Holmes before she retired, then she glanced at me, "Don't worry I will talk to him for you."

She nodded nervously and disappeared behind the door. I ordered supper from the maid and returned to Holmes who was again sitting at the windowsill, looking down in to the street. He spoke before he turned around,

"Is she alright Watson?"

"Yes, she's fine, she's eating. I'm amazed she spoke I have not heard her speak since that first night she came to my door, hysterical."

Holmes smiled enigmatically at me. I said nothing.

"I am grateful to you Watson, the truth is I am unaccustomed to this sort of thing, I don't deal with women as a general rule and I have no other female relatives that I know of. It is all a bit disconcerting."

Holmes was not the only one disconcerted, I was unused to the emotional Holmes I had seen this past day, the cold analytical Holmes I had left behind was fading as fast as the world I had known; Holmes was my world. My head began to ache.

"She worships you Holmes you must see that."

"Yes, I know. Only because I am the first male in her life who hasn't attempted to…" Holmes paused, he did not need to go on, I knew what he meant. I held my head in my hands.

"Life has changed hasn't it doctor? Since we first met."

I did not raise my head.

"Yes, I don't remember it being quite so…dark."

"No, nor do I."

I looked up at Holmes, humour was dancing around his eyes.

"What, may I ask is so funny?"

"Life, Watson. Glorious, tragic, impossible life!" He threw open the window and shouted into the night.

"You wont get them do you hear! Not while I live!"

A flurry of birds greeted this outburst and flew in agitated circles up into the night. Holmes was not disturbed, his eyes were gleaming and his face had assumed a wicked, almost boyish look. I gazed at him, astounded.

"Holmes! What on earth are you doing?" I pulled him away from the window, and closed it, "Are you trying to get yourself arrested?"

He laughed, a loud laugh that threw his head back.

"I know what needs to be done Watson. Ha!"

"What are you talking about?"

"All in good time, leave me be and all will be revealed, I must go."

He picked up his coat and hat and headed to the door.

"Holmes you can't leave, again! We have only just got you back."

Holmes' smile disappeared as he became aware of Alice's presence at the door. She looked quite seriously at him, then smiled.

"Is this what he was like, my father? Was he like you?"

"No, Alice, he was not like me. He was the best of us, the only one capable of love, of raising a family. He was better, he made a person want to be better, I saw the man I wanted to be reflected in Sherringford's eyes. I see him in you more than you can know. I will protect you, I promised him I would, and I have never broken a promise." Holmes walked over to her and kissed her hand gallantly, I felt my heart swell with pride as the Holmes I knew returned. He turned to me.

"Watson protect her," He pointed a finger at me, "Protect her with your life!"

" I will, Holmes. I assure you."

He took my hand and squeezed it briefly, not looking into my eyes, the emotion he had displayed hidden again beneath his well-constructed mask.

"Good man, I shall not be long, all being well!" We heard his footsteps retreat down the corridor and I became vaguely aware it was two in the morning.

"Perhaps we should get some sleep."

Alice nodded,

"May I stay here with you?" She asked, I could feel my face redden.

"I'm not sure that would be proper…" I started but she cut me off.

"Please Doctor Watson." She had taken hold of my arm and her eyes were so filled with fear I could not refuse her.

"Very well, you take the bed and I will sleep on the couch."

She let out a sigh of relief and got into the bed, I undid my collar and lay on the couch, Alice passed me a blanket from the bed and smiled, I smiled back. I could see Holmes in her eyes, they were his eyes. I still could not believe this child was his niece. Sherringford had obviously meant a great deal to him and I could hear the pain in his voice whenever he spoke of him. Holmes seldom spoke of his family, now I could begin to understand why. Within minutes Alice was asleep, I found it somewhat harder; with Holmes gone and our time in Paris only just beginning, I felt anticipation and excitement overcoming me, making sleep impossible. I listened to Alice's slow breathing and marvelled at how lucky I was. Holmes had trusted me with one of the most important people in his life and I was honoured, my life had become important again and Holmes was the reason. I thanked God for him, and soon fell into a deep sleep with the smile of a grateful man who has found a little peace in a time of war written on my face.


	7. Chapter 7 Fear

_Next chapter! Whoo : ) Please please please read and review. Just a little note to KCS Holmes and Watson are not under copyright anymore so you don__'t need a disclaimer but please keep writing them as they are sooo good to read!! Hehe, anyway…enjoy : )_

**Chapter seven. Fear.**

I awoke early the next morning, Alice was sleeping soundly so I did not disturb her. I walked into the other room and opened the window, feeling the need for air. I looked out onto the city and again felt the pang of war. The soldiers walking down the river bank were smiling but their eyes were solemn, the battles taking place all over the French countryside were appalling and I could not think of them without thinking of my own war experience and regretting every single moment of this mess. I sighed and walked away from the sights below. I dressed quickly and sent for breakfast. Holmes appeared not long after it had been brought up and smiled briefly a the maid as they crossed at the door.

"Is it done?" I asked, pouring Holmes a cup of coffee as he stole a piece of toast from my plate.

"What? Oh, yes it is done. I'm afraid you won't much like it Watson but we are at war after all." He took a sip of his coffee and opened the paper he had brought in with him.

"Why, what are you going to do?"

"It's not what I'm going to do, it's where I'm going that I fear you will object to."

"Where are you going?"

Holmes smiled,

"America."

I nearly choked on my coffee, I did not have pleasant memories of America, the cases we had experienced there had never been easy. Besides I longed for England already, America was a world away from where I wanted to be.

"Why on earth are you going to that God-forsaken country!?"

"Watson, I'm shocked at you," Holmes was practically laughing at me, "America is a land of opportunity."

I made a rather ungallant noise as I replied,

"Refusing to join a war that the rest of the world is struggling with is callous and I'm sorry Holmes but I never warmed to the place, give me drizzly old England any day."

Holmes merely smiled,

"You must be getting old Watson, there used to be a time when you would have followed me anywhere, even America."

"I never said I wouldn't go with you, I just said I didn't like the place. Why are you going?"

"At the request of His majesty's government Watson, I can't tell you all and you shall not accompany me," He saw me attempt to protest but held up a hand, "No, Watson, I appreciate the gesture but this I will do this one alone, especially as I will not exactly be myself."

I raised an eyebrow but Alice interrupted my unspoken question. She appeared fully dressed and smiling, whatever effect Holmes' presence was having on her it was a welcome one. Holmes stood as he saw her,

"Good morning, sit down. Are you hungry?"

Alice shook her head as Holmes poured her a coffee, she wrapped her hands around it and sipped it gratefully. Suddenly her smile disappeared and she looked up at Holmes,

"What's going to happen to me when you go?"

Holmes looked at her without emotion,

"I am not going yet."

"When you do."

Holmes sighed and put down the cup he had been holding, glancing briefly at me before kneeling next to Alice's chair.

"You will return to England with Dr. Watson."

I cleared my throat and looked at the ceiling,

"He is not going with you."

"No I'm being banish…" I did not finish the sentence as Holmes hit my knee with his hand.

"No, I am returning to my practice, in times such as these all doctors are needed, I may even join my old regiment." The thought had only just occurred to me, but it seemed like rather a good idea. Holmes smiled at me, with just a hint of concern around his eyes, "in fact, my wife does some work for the hospital and she was complaining to me about the amount of work she has to do. How would like to come and live with me in Kensington and help Elaine at the hospital?"

Holmes had taken Alice's hand but still remained on his knees. Alice looked at him for approval. He smiled at her,

"Well Alice?" He said.

She turned to me,

"I would like that very much thank you Dr. Watson."

It sounded like a rehearsed answer, but I had to remind myself she was still recovering.

"That's settled then, when everything is sorted here you will return to England with Watson and I will go to America." Holmes rubbed the back of Alice's hand with his fingers, then stood up. He walked into the next room and I followed him.

"Thank you Watson, truth be told I had not thought about where she was to go after I left," He ran his hand across his eyes, "God I'm a fool."

"You are far from being that Holmes."

He looked at me out the corner of his eye.

"I may be able to solve crimes Watson, but I am still baffled by the human heart."

I laughed gently at his romantic statement,

"You do very well with Alice."

"I'm afraid I don't. you don't know what she's been through Watson. The men, the horrors she's seen."

"You can tell me."

Holmes turned to face me,

"I know that, I'm just not sure I want to, or if indeed it would be wise to."

"Holmes…"

He sighed loudly,

"Don't berate me Watson!" I sighed and sat down, used to his changes in temperament.

"Alice has been repeatedly raped and beaten during her short life," I looked up as he began to pace, a little shocked by his bluntness but more fearful for Alice's overhearing, "After the war began the family relocated to Paris, hoping to escape the conflict, cowards the lot of them, they ended up in a brothel, that much you know."

He glanced at me and I nodded,

"Yes, well at one point Alice escaped. She made it to the outskirts of Paris before she was caught by some soldiers on patrol. Already scared out of her mind, she did not speak, again she was raped and beaten by this men. She escaped again, and decided life was less horrific at the brothel, the brothel at which she began to work. Until I found her."

I remained silent, not sure what it was Holmes wanted me to say,

"Holmes I don't think…" Again he cut me off.

"I am not asking you to think Watson, I am simply telling you the truth so you can understand her a little better when you…when you take her away."

He stopped pacing and again looked out the window.

"How long will you be away?" I asked, sensing this conversation was not really about Alice but about Holmes' leaving.

"I do not know, as long as it takes. I'm sorry for doing this to you Watson." There seemed genuine concern in his voice, I waved a hand.

"War is a terrible thing Holmes, it requires much of all of us and brings out the best and the worst in us."

Holmes nodded,

"Yes."

"I will always be there Holmes, should you ever need me."

"Thank you Watson."

He walked over to me and held out his hand, I took it. We remained silent for a while, Holmes' stare was intense and I suddenly realised what it must be like to be on the receiving end of one of Holmes' glares. I coughed to break the silence.

"Holmes, my hand…"

Holmes looked down at our hands as if he hadn't heard me. He released it and turned away.

"You know when you're going don't you?" I whispered, the sunlight fading behind the blinds of our hotel room.

"Yes."

"And you need me to get Alice away as soon as possible, why?"

"Do you remember that boy who ran into me last night?"

"Yes."

"A spy for the Kendall clan. They want her back?"

"What on earth for? I thought you paid them for her." I paused, shocked at my own speech.

Holmes raised an eyebrow at me but said nothing,

"She was a good earner." He said simply, "Watson to do what I have to dp I need all my its about me, I cannot afford t worry about Alice - or you. Get away as soon as you can."

"What about you?" I asked watching his silhouette grow as the darkness grew.

"I will survive, I always survive."

"Yes, but will survive without _you_?"

Holmes was enclosed in darkness and I walked away, unable to bear the tears that were forming in my eyes.


	8. Chapter 8 Partings

**Chapter Eight. Partings**

The dawn came quickly on the day we were to part. Too quickly. We were all ready and dressed before the maid brought up breakfast, Holmes thanked her warmly, the emotion of what we were to do affecting his usually cold and balanced mind. I could not think, every part of me felt numb, not one thought would enter my head, I remember thinking of the boat journey home and how I would explain to Elaine about Alice, then thinking that it all could wait, that none of it meant anything really. I looked at Holmes, he had barely touched his food and was looking at Alice, maybe unsure whether he would ever see her again. I was unsure whether I would ever see him again, and I could not feel anything. The day went past in a haze, I cannot even recall to this day how we spent it. I remember only constantly watching Holmes' face as he took Alice around the sights of Paris, explaining all that he may never have a chance to say, and I memorised his face, memorised every line, every quirk, I memorised them all should I never see him again. Soon it was dusk and Holmes was due to leave for America, he insisted we were not to see him off. We stood in our hotel room together and said nothing. Alice remained remarkably composed and silently graceful, she took Holmes' hand and raised it to her lips, Holmes flinched slightly but did not pull away. He laid a hand on her head and brought her to him, he held her for a while then released her. He did not look at me. He picked up his bags and gave them to the waiting valet. When the room was clear of our belongings I took Alice downstairs to the cab that was waiting to take us away from Paris and from Holmes and from the life we both knew, perhaps forever. As I helped her into the carriage, she turned and took my hand,

"Thank you Doctor Watson, for saving my life."

"I did not save your life, Holmes did."

She looked up to the window of our room and nodded,

"You gave me the chance of another life, a better life." She released my hand as she sat down, "Maybe I shall change my name to Holmes, do you think he would mind?"

Her voice was so innocent and her eyes so pleading that I wanted to weep for the world,

"I am sure he would be honoured my dear."

She favoured me with the most beautiful and heart-lifting smile, I have ever seen. I left her to go back to Holmes - to say goodbye, and thought filled me with dread. He was standing looking down at the carriage on the street below.

"What was she saying to you?"

"She wants to change her name to Holmes."

He smiled but did not look at me.

"When do you think you will return Holmes?"

"I do not know, perhaps I never will." He ran his hand through his hair. I walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He sighed.

"Thank you Watson, for everything you have done."

"I have done very little Holmes."

Holmes smiled at me,

"Watson must you always be modest?"

I returned his smile.

"I don't know when I shall see you again old friend but I wish you well, you and Mrs. Watson."

"Thank you Holmes, if wishes could keep one safe you would be indestructible."

Holmes let out a quiet laugh and put his arm around my shoulder.

"Life will be hard Watson, in the next few years, but I believe we will weather this storm as we have weathered others."

"I do hope so Holmes, if you ever need me when you return from America, you know I will be there."

"Thank you Watson. I may take you up on that one day."

He smiled again and let his arm fall to his side, reluctant to leave him I extended my hand, he took it. There was nothing to say, nothing we could say that would mean anything, that would say all we wanted to. My eyes never let his, he held my gaze with some unreadable emotion passing through them until eventually he broke away and released my hand.

"I must go."

"Yes, so must I."

He walked over to the door,

"Holmes."

"Yes, Watson?"

"Don't do anything too brave will you?"

Holmes smiled gently,

"Do not worry yourself my dear fellow, I am merely doing as instructed, I am far from brave."

As the sun set on Paris, and the twinkling lamplights were lit, Holmes rode away out of my life, perhaps forever and for the second time. I watched his carriage from the window until I could see no more. Outside Alice was waiting for me,

"He is gone?" She asked in that peculiar voice of hers.

"Yes he is gone."

"Do you think he will die?"

"No, no Alice he won't die. He's far too brave a man to be allowed to die."

She looked at me strangely but leaned her head on my shoulder. I felt a strange sort of peace settle over us as we left. I knew I should never return to Paris, never again in my life would I set foot on the shores of France.

_Not a long chapter I know but just a little update until I can think of where to go next! Hope you enjoy, please let me know and review, thanks ever so__…Music97 xx_


	9. Chapter 9 London and Home

**Chapter Nine. London and Home.**

It was good to be home and feel the solid ground of London beneath my feet, I felt more like myself than I had done in weeks. Elaine greeted me warmly when we arrived and welcomed Alice into our home with all the love and grace that I admire her for, and so our lives went on. Without Holmes. Alice joined Elaine at the hospital, working little to start with as the wounded men frightened her, but under my wife's expert hands she blossomed into a caring and capable nurse. I often wondered what Holmes was doing and where he was. I heard nothing of him and Mycroft was impossible to get hold of, his routine had altered for perhaps the first time in his life and he could not be found. War business occupied everyone. I rejoined my old regiment at Elaine's insistence and found misery and despair everywhere I went. I stayed local however, and helped as best I could, not wanting to be too far from Elaine and Alice. Before long we felt like a family. Alice changed her name to Mary Holmes, the name she had always been intended for and it suited her very well, although I would forever think of her as Alice Kendall. I saw many changes during those years between 1914 and 1917, I saw men die and women grow old quickly, I saw the city I loved reduced to a shadow, a memory of her former glory, everything I knew was slowly being washed away in a tide of reconstruction, but I could not feel despair. I could feel only hope and joy as one world faded and another flew gloriously into place. London would always be London and I worshipped her strength as I always would. She would never crumble in spite of everything she had been through, and all that was to come, she would never fade. I passed Baker street only occasionally and saw the house occupied again by others and it brought a pang to my heart. I smiled at the memories I had of my time there but knew it was time to move on, the world did not belong to Holmes and me anymore, new, brighter men and women were taking over, ready to sweep away all vestiges of my world, but I did not mind. My time was over their's was to come.

It was a late and cold night when the call came, the call that was to bring me back to Holmes. His voice was urgent and strained but still the voice I knew so well and often heard in my dreams. He had changed very little, apart from certain attire that was obviously part of some elaborate disguise. I smiled as I saw him waiting for me at Victoria Station, he held out his hand,

"Watson, I can't tell you how good it is to see you."

"It's been a long time Holmes."

"Yes, and much has changed. I'm afraid we shall have little time to talk until afterwards."

"Afterwards?"

"Yes, I have a little job to do, you will come with me?"

"Of course."

"Wonderful, first things first however, how are Alice and Mrs. Watson?"

"Elaine is very well, and very much looking forward to seeing you, Alice is no longer Alice however."

Holmes raised a quizzical eyebrow at me.

"She is now Mary Holmes."

Holmes threw his head back and laughed, a sound I was unaccustomed too, but glad to the heart to hear.

"Oh Watson, how glad I am of it. Come, let us go."

We left Victoria station and drove to Kensington, the summer sun was beating down heavily on a tired city but Holmes seemed to gain energy from it.

"It's been so long since I saw England, I can't tell you how strange it all looks" His eyes were sparkling and his manner that of an impatient schoolboy. I smiled as we reached my home. Holmes leapt out the car and bounded up the steps before I could catch up to him. Elaine opened the front door and threw her arms around his neck, Holmes did not flinch and placed a tentative arm around her waist as he gently pushed her away,

"Mrs. Watson you look radiant, just as I remember you."

Elaine smiled sweetly at him, I sighed.

"I envy you Watson." He said turning to me,

"Envy me inside the sun is excruciatingly warm."

Holmes laughed again and followed Elaine into the cool air.

"I have to say Mr. Holmes the facial hair you have acquired makes you look very…"

"Very ridiculous I shouldn't wonder Mrs. Watson," Holmes smiled removing his coat, I had not noticed the goatee Holmes was sporting, my joy at seeing him overweighing everything else, "Still, it was necessary."

A commotion was heard above us and we all gazed at the staircase, before long Mary was bustling down them, her hair flying around her shoulders and our disgruntled maid following her. Mary threw herself into Holmes arms, who picked her up and swung her round before replacing her on the ground, she beamed at him.

"I'm so glad you're back," She said in a breathless voice, Holmes held both her shoulders.

"You look remarkable - Mary."

She blushed as he said her name.

"You don't mind?"

"Why should I mind? It is who you are," He paused, "And you look more and more like your father."

She smiled again and took his arm to lead him into the sitting room. We spent a pleasant afternoon, talking and eating, but before long Holmes reminded me we had to leave. Emotional goodbyes were said which I will not bore the reader with here, suffice it to say Holmes and I left with foreboding in our hearts and tears in our eyes as we watched Elaine and Mary wave us away. I looked at Holmes, he was giving instructions to the driver and was not looking towards the house. He placed a hand on my arm,

"Do not look back Watson. I need you tonight, I need you to be the Watson of old and you cannot be that if you look back." His eyes were imploring me to be the man he remembered and I owed it to him to be no less.

"No Holmes, I will not look back, I am ready."

A smile broke across his face,

"Good man Watson. Driver, away!"

_Short I know, but I am going somewhere promise : ) Please review if you liked - or if you didn__'t I'm not fussy xx_


	10. Chapter 10 A Tribute

_It was nine o'clock at night upon the second of August- the most terrible August in the history of the world. One might have thought already that God's curse hung heavy over a degenerate world, for there was an awesome hush and a feeling of vague expectation in the sultry and stagnant air. __**The Beautiful words of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle upon which this final chapter is based.**_

**Chapter Ten. **

We drove for hours, Holmes had told me very little. We stopped outside of London to swap cars and change, Holmes from his usual suit to loose shirt, trousers smeared with dirt and a scarf around his neck, I smiled as the Holmes I knew disappeared to be replaced with a stranger. I changed into the outfit he had provided for me, that of a chauffeur, I felt ridiculous but then I always felt ridiculous around Holmes, I sighed.

"Ready?" He said, Holmes' face had taken on a grave look and I suddenly felt horribly aware of what we were doing.

Reluctantly I got into the driver's seat and we carried on. Gradually the sunlight faded and London slipped away, Holmes was silent; glancing out of the window as the world went rushing by, he sat sombre and thoughtful. I struggled to keep my eyes open as the daylight merged with the twilight. The open countryside was indeed beautiful, the calm quiet of it all, the peace, so unaware of what we were about to face and yet it was unyielding. I felt a swell of pride as I gazed on this, my country. Soon the coast was in sight and the fresh wind that one always associates with the sea blew into the car, courtesy of the window that Holmes had opened and was now leaning on. He looked up as we approached the cliffs.

"It gets closer Watson."

"I wish you would tell me what we were going to face Holmes, all this secrecy is making me decidedly nervous."

Holmes said nothing and continued to stare from the window. We stopped on the cliff edge, which stretched out to the open sea. Holmes stared intently into the distance as if searching for something. His whole body was tense and every sense on the alert. I could not relax, the wind grew cooler and the light continued to fade to almost complete darkness, I shivered. Holmes turned to me and placed a hand on my arm.

"We must go, now is the time." I saw absolute fear in his eyes, I started the car and we drove on. Another car passed ours and Holmes smiled slightly, somewhat comforted it seemed. Soon we came upon a large and opulent house, surrounded by beautiful, rolling English countryside. I pulled up and remained seated while Holmes went inside. I marvelled at how his attitude changed, he became buoyant and care-free; his whole body changed as his persona changed, I could hear his voice and was shocked to hear a practised, almost natural American accent emerged. I settled down into the chair and waited patiently, scared beyond my life for Holmes' safety but knowing I must do nothing. I was accustomed to Holmes' keeping things from me but this was different, this was not a case in which only a few people were involved, this was war and the entire nation was involved. I felt a wave of pity for Holmes for perhaps the first time in my life, it seemed to me that the whole weight of the world rested on his weary shoulders and I wished that I could help ease his burden, but I could not. I began to grow cold and wrapped my arms around me, I could hear voices from within, what they said I could not determine. I watched as figures moved past the window. I ached for some kind of sign from Holmes signalling me to move, soon I heard a crash. I leapt up and ran into the house. Holmes had one arm around a well-built sturdy man and together they crashed to the floor, the man ceased to struggle and breathless Holmes stood.

"Are you alright?" I asked, rushing over to him. He leaned gratefully on my arm.

"Yes, Watson I'm alright. Come help me to tie him up."

With difficulty, for the man was large and strong we managed to bind him and place him on the settee. Holmes sank into a nearby chair and ran a hand through his hair.

"Thank goodness that's over." He smiled at me and for a brief moment I saw the Holmes of days long gone, young, strong and fighting for justice in a world that was harsh and cruel, the Holmes I knew well, the Holmes I loved.

"A drink Watson?" Holmes said holding up a bottle of wine.

"Delighted Holmes." I smiled back.

_**To finish a brief passage from the only man who can write Holmes how he should be written, from my favourite Holmes story, I hand you over to the immortal words of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.**_

"There are a good many other points of detail which will, no doubt, come to light in good time. But you have one quality which is very rare in a German, Mr. Von Bork: you are a sportsman and you will bear me no ill-will when you realize that you, who have outwitted so many other people, have at last been outwitted yourself. After all, you have done your best for your country, and I have done my best for mine, and what could be more natural? Besides," he added, not unkindly, as he laid his hand upon the shoulder of the prostrate man, "it is better than to fall before some more ignoble foe. These papers are now ready, Watson. If you will help me with our prisoner, I think that we may get started for London at once."

It was no easy task to move Von Bork, for he was a strong and a desperate man. Finally, holding either arm, the two friends walked him very slowly down the garden walk which he had trod with such proud confidence when he received the congratulations of the famous diplomatist only a few hours before. After a short, final struggle he was hoisted, still hound hand and foot, into the spare seat of the little car. His precious valise was wedged in beside him.

"I trust that you are as comfortable as circumstances permit," said Holmes when the final arrangements were made. "Should I be guilty of a liberty if I lit a cigar and placed it between your lips?"

But all amenities were wasted upon the angry German.

"I suppose you realize, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said he, "that if your government bears you out in this treatment it becomes an act of war."

"What about your government and all this treatment?" said Holmes, tapping the valise.

"You are a private individual. You have no warrant for my arrest. The whole proceeding is absolutely illegal and outrageous."

"Absolutely," said Holmes.

"Kidnapping a German subject."

"And stealing his private papers."

"Well, you realize your position, you and your accomplice here. If I were to shout for help as we pass through the village-"

"My dear sir, if you did anything so foolish you would probably enlarge the two limited titles of our village inns by giving us 'The Dangling Prussian' as a signpost. The Englishman is a patient creature, but at present his temper is a little inflamed, and it would be as well not to try him too far. No, Mr. Von Bork, you will go with us in a quiet, sensible fashion to Scotland Yard, whence you can send for your friend, Baron Von Herling, and see if even now you may not fill that place which he has reserved for you in the ambassadorial suite. As to you, Watson, you are joining us with your old service, as I understand, so London won't be out of your way. Stand with me here upon the terrace, for it may be the last quiet talk that we shall ever have."

The two friends chatted in intimate converse for a few minutes, recalling once again the days of the past, while their prisoner vainly wriggled to undo the bonds that held him. As they turned to the car Holmes pointed back to the moonlit sea and shook a thoughtful head.

"There's an east wind coming, Watson."

"I think not, Holmes. It is very warm."

"Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age. There's an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many of us may wither before its blast. But it's God's own wind none the less, and a cleaner, better, stronger land will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared. Start her up, Watson, for it's time that we were on our way. I have a check for five hundred pounds which should be cashed early, for the drawer is quite capable of stopping it if he can."

**-THE END- **

_**Amazing stuff : ) There will be an epilogue following so it's not over yet! Thanks for reading and please review xx**_


	11. Epilogue The End of the War

**Epilogue. The End of the War. **

_The war was over. It had been long and it had caused devastation. The world and all its people were weary. Many had been lost and their loss was keenly felt by those that remained. It seemed that all the old world and its ways had been lost, swept away in a gust of death, the world began again. In a haze of disillusion everyone continued with their lives, the world grinded back into normality, and yet there was a grey hue to the world. The colour there once was, drained and gone forever. _

"John? John what are you doing up there?"

I sighed as I heard my wife's voice calling me from downstairs. I felt in no mood for socialising. I was getting old and becoming tired of the world, the war was over and I felt I was over, everything in me refusing to carry on. I heaved myself up and walked downstairs, Elaine was waiting for me at the bottom dressed in all her Sunday finery.

"You look beautiful." I said, kissing her cheek.

"You look tired. Are you sure you want to go, you really don't have to force yourself for me."

She stroked my face with her finger and I held it.

"I'm alright, besides I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing it for Mary."

Elaine smiled,

"Yes and a good thing she asked you too."

"It should be Holmes."

"Mr. Holmes isn't here John."

I knew, and the pain was stifling. Mary was getting married today to a young doctor I had introduced her to at the hospital. He was a good enough man, and kind. Mary had asked me to give her away and I had agreed. Mycroft had refused an invitation to the wedding stating he was too busy, he had seen Mary but once since our return to London all those years ago. I had never seen him so affected; he merely looked at her before leaving without a word. Perhaps the memories of his brother were too hard to bear, even for one such as Mycroft. Holmes had not yet returned from wherever he had spent the last years of the war, we had heard nothing of him.

I looked at myself in the glass and sighed, yes the war had made me old. In the reflection I saw a flurry of white and Mary was standing looking at me. I turned and held out my hands which she took, smiling.

"You look stunning Mary." And it was true, it was hard to believe that this was that raving and frightened girl I had opened my door to so long ago. She was a woman, a beautiful and capable woman that Holmes would have been proud of, "Are you ready?"

She nodded and took my arm. I led her to the waiting car. As we left I looked back at the house, one more thing was changing and I felt I could cope with no more.

I waited anxiously outside the church while Mary was being fussed over by the older ladies. I lit a cigarette to calm my nerves hoping Elaine would not turn the corner and catch me; she did not approve of what she called my 'incessant smoking.' I breathed in gratefully and closed my eyes wishing the wedding was over. I could hear faint steps behind me, I opened my eyes,

"I'm sorry my dear but the…" I stopped and dropped the cigarette, standing before me, thin and pale but the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, was Holmes. He smiled and came forward.

"Expecting someone else Watson? Or have you taken to calling men dears?" He smiled again, taking the hand I wasn't even aware I had offered. I gripped it to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

"Holmes. You're alive."

"Of course I'm alive, didn't you expect me to be?" His manner was as nonchalant as ever. I threw my arms around him and held him to me, to my shock he didn't flinch; I could feel his hand on my back.

"No Holmes, I didn't expect you to be."

Holmes removed himself from my grasp and laughed.

"Watson the war has made you more sentimental than you were before – if that's at all possible," He smiled and lit his own cigarette, "It would take more than an army to beat me."

"Yes I think it would Holmes."

He smiled again, flicking some ash from his fingers to the floor. Then he looked at me and I could see how much he had aged.

"Did you know about the wedding?" I asked.

"Yes, I read about it in the paper on the way over."

"Are you pleased?"

"Of course."

I didn't know how to carry on, we had been apart for such a long time and so much had changed.

"Holmes?"

"Yes Watson."

"You should be the one who gives her away."

He again flicked ash from his cigarette on to the floor, but he did not look at me.

"Are you certain Watson? It has been you who has been always here for her, not me. Do you think she would…?"

I stopped him,

"I know she would be delighted Holmes."

Together we walked into the church, Mary was with Elaine waiting for me, they were chatting happily together, I pushed Holmes forward. They both paused.

"You're here." Mary's voice was quiet, almost reverent.

"Mary you are the most beautiful girl I think I've ever seen." Holmes said, taking her hands and kissing her cheek. She closed her eyes as he did so. He then turned to Elaine.

"Mrs. Watson," Holmes bowed to her, Elaine walked over and kissed his cheek. Holmes flushed in embarrassment.

"Welcome home."

"Thank you," He smiled and turned back to Mary, "Will you allow me to walk you down the aisle?"

She took his hands, and then looked at me.

"It's quite alright Mary; let your uncle give you away."

She smiled and looked back to Holmes.

"Yes, I would like that very much."

Holmes gave her the most genuine smile I have ever seen him bestow on anyone and took her arm. Leading her into the church I thought I saw peace fill his eyes, Mary's never left his face. I felt Elaine slip her arm into mine.

"And all is well with the world." She whispered into my ear. I looked at her and kissed her.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I know."

Together we followed Mary and Holmes into the church, Holmes shook the hand of the man who was to become Mary's husband and then took his seat next to me. I settled down and felt Holmes' leg next to mine and smiled. This is where I was always meant to be, at Holmes' side and I felt a sudden rush of excitement as I realised that this was not the end, we may have become older but we were still together in spite of everything and my heart surged with joy and thanks. I knew then that we would always be together in some strange way, that our lives were bound and I felt tears form in my eyes. No this was not the end; there would never be an end…


End file.
